Plant Them Deep (9 page)

Read Plant Them Deep Online

Authors: Aimee & David Thurlo

BOOK: Plant Them Deep
3.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“But everyone knew. The entire senior class practically worshiped us after that,” Lena said with a smile.
Rose laughed. “You and I sure got into a lot of trouble together, but we always stuck together and got each other through it. Remember that.”
It was then that
Gishii
, Reva Benally, arrived.
After Rose and
Gishii
arranged to meet at Reva’s home later
that day to discuss the plant situation, Rose finally left. Lena seemed in better spirits now, so, commending herself for a job well done, Rose went down the hall.
She had just passed the gift shop and was close to the side exit doors when she heard rapid footsteps coming up behind her. Turning her head, she saw her old friend Charlie Dodge. Charlie was several years older than she was, and one
of the tribe’s most respected authorities on native plants. He seldom came into Shiprock, however, preferring to live on the Arizona side of the reservation near Teec Nos Pos.
“I’m surprised to see you!” Rose greeted warmly. “And
here
of all places.”
“I was in the area, heard about our Plant Watcher friend, and came to visit her.” Charlie was small in stature, but he had an undeniable presence
about him. His weathered face and bright eyes commanded both respect and authority.
“I’m glad you came. Our friend needs people around her now who’ll remind her that she’s loved.”
They walked out to the waiting area in the lobby and sat down together for a brief visit. “What have you been doing lately?” Rose asked.
“Mostly working on a new strain of plant that can provide us with a reliable,
natural blue dye.”
She nodded. “That particular color’s always been a problem. Sumac and pulverized blue clay are sometimes used, but it isn’t very good. And indigo dye just isn’t native to the
Dinetah.”
“I’ve developed a new strain of ‘blue pollen,’ more as a result of luck than anything else. I used the old, reliable, but slow method of selecting seeds only from the plants with the darkest
blue flowers, and cultivating for color. This spring I was surprised to discover one of my new plants was a mutation
that has bright incandescent blue flowers. It’s still not as dark a color as I would have liked for the blue dye I’m trying to develop, but I’m getting there.”
“It sounds very promising.”
“It is. I was even contacted by a pharmaceutical company that was interested in herbs that
could be added to food as color enhancers. Apparently many people are allergic to the synthetic food colorings used now, and the trend is toward organics because they tend to be healthier.”
“I’m glad good things are happening for you.”
“They are, but you sound sad. Are you worried about our friend and her illness?”
“Yes, but I’m also worried about the Plant People,” she said, and explained
what had been happening.
He expelled his breath in a hiss. “That explains what happened to me recently. Someone got into my own plant garden a few weeks ago. They took some ‘tenacious,’ digging the plants right out of the ground, roots and all. Even in the best years that plant is never easy to find, so I was pretty angry about it for a while.”
Rose pulled out the list of endangered plants the
council had given her. “That’s one of the plants I’m supposed to check on.”
“When I went in search of seeds or seedlings to replant what had been taken, I saw someone had been digging up a lot more plants, not only ‘tenacious,’ but other medicinal plants as well. He devastated two of my collecting sites. I’m keeping my eyes open for this person. Maybe I can catch him and put a stop to this.”
“Be careful. But if you do see the plant thief, send word to me. I’m very interested in finding out who he is.”
“Sure. I’d be happy to do that,” he said.
“Will you be going back home today?”
“No, I’m camping out tonight down by the river just south
of Hogback. Later, I’m meeting with one of the professors at the community college so we can discuss my new plant. Those petals are a blue you’ll
never forget and the flowers smell almost like lavender.”
“I’d love to see your plants sometime.”
“Whenever I’m home, you’re welcome to stop by. I have them growing under special lights for now.”
After saying good-bye to Charlie, Rose went to buy more film for the camera at a local grocery store, then drove to
Gishii’
s house. Her pickup was there, so Rose knew she’d already returned from the
hospital. She hadn’t even finished parking when her friend came out and invited her with a wave to come inside.
Rose handed her the cutting of curly leaf dock, still moist and in the sealed plastic bag, and
Gishii
accepted it gratefully. “I still can’t believe someone dug plants up right out of my garden. He’s lucky I didn’t catch him!”
Rose told her about the raids on Charlie’s and Lena’s garden.
“You’re not the only one who has had this kind of trouble lately.”
“I’ve also heard that some of our medicine men have had to buy herbs from each other, or trade, because they also can’t find the plants they need.”
Rose nodded slowly. “I think it’s time we pooled our resources. We need a list of every plant growing in the gardens kept by the Plant Watchers. As a group, we may be able to provide
much of what they need.”
“That’s a good idea, but since our group of friends all live in this area, there’ll be plants none of us can grow because they require the coolness of the mountains, or other soil conditions not present here. Of course, even if we have other Plant Watchers across the entire reservation cultivating the plants that are scarce and can’t be grown locally, the main problem
will still exist.”
“I don’t know what else we can do.”
“Tomorrow, five of our better-known
hataaliis
, including your son, are meeting on the west side of Beautiful Mountain at Water From the Rocks at noon. They’re discussing what to do.”
Rose nodded. “Our mountains are said to be the forked hogans of the gods. It’s a good place to talk about what’s threatening us now. I’ll go to Beautiful
Mountain and see the
hataaliis
myself. I’ll present my plan to them and see if they think it will be useful.”
“Maybe you should think about this plan some more. Our gardens are to provide for the needs of our own families and clans,”
Gishii
said. “Not all of us would share easily.”
“We can’t allow ourselves to think selfishly. We are all Navajo, and in a time of crisis, we have to pull together.”
By the time Rose headed back home, the sun was setting and the sky was a vivid orange-red color, a beautiful side benefit, she knew, from the dust in the air. It had been a long, tiring day, but she’d accomplished a lot of good. Now, she was looking forward to spending time with her family.
Rose reached home within a half hour. As she came in the front door, scratching Two, her mutt, behind
the ears, Dawn rushed up, her sneakers thumping across the thin carpet, and gave her a hug. But before Rose could even ask her about her day, Dawn wriggled away and ran back to the floor in front of the television. A nature show was showing on her favorite channel.
Rose smiled. Sometimes her granddaughter amazed her. She was just like Ella at that age, with the same streak of independence that
was rare in children that young. Ella had loved her friends and her family, but like Dawn, Ella had been perfectly happy playing alone.
To her surprise. Rose found Ella in the kitchen and, as she came in, smelled the mutton stew warming on the stove. Rose
looked at her daughter quickly and tried not to cringe. If Ella had fixed the stew, experience told her it would be inedible. Ella had never
taken any interest in cooking, and invariably got distracted in the middle of what she was doing. That often resulted in a forgotten ingredient, or a potful of food that set off the smoke alarm. Last time Ella had fixed supper, even Two had refused to go near it.
“Did you …” Rose’s voice trailed off as she tried to figure out a way to gently phrase the question.
“Relax, Mom. Boots fixed dinner.
I’m just heating it up for you.”
Rose smiled, but inwardly she was relieved. Boots was an exceptional cook. “Have you eaten already, daughter?”
Ella nodded. “My daughter and I finished our meal about a half hour ago. I would have waited for you, but she was hungry and I took the opportunity to have dinner with her. I rarely get to do that with my random hours.”
“That’s all right.” Going to
the stove, Rose served herself a steaming bowl of stew, took three pieces of fry bread from a paper-towel-lined dish on the counter, and returned to the table. As she ate, she told Ella about her day.
“The distinctive shovel marks and missing plants are pretty obvious, all right,” Ella commented. “Why do you think someone’s stealing our plants? What possible motive could they have?”
“I’ve been
thinking a lot about that. At first I saw it as malicious, but that may not be the case. It’s too much work for a troublemaker. The professor mentioned some good possibilities and it started me thinking. What if this person is actually trying to preserve our plants? Everyone knows that the Plant People are scarce because we’ve had several years of drought. Maybe someone is trying to save what’s
left by digging them up and replanting them in a special garden someplace where
they can make sure they survive.” Rose took several more bites. “But he or she’s obviously in a hurry, perhaps worried about being seen, and several plants have been so damaged they were just left to die. And then there was one chopped to pieces, like the person lost their temper.”
“Do you have any suspects?” Ella
asked.
“Well, there’s the new traditionalist
hataalii
. If he’s setting up a business … that might explain the rare varieties that have been stolen from the gardens several of our Plant Watchers keep.”
“You do realize that if your theory is right,
all
the Plant Watchers could be considered suspects?”
Rose nodded slowly. “And that, daughter, breaks my heart.”
T
he next morning after Dawn left for day-school, Rose went for a walk outside. Her own garden was arranged in the form of a giant wheel, with different plants sectioned in the wedges between the “spokes.”
She looked closely, searching for any sign that the plant thief had also visited her, but the only marks on the ground were ones she had made herself, and the plants were all in
good condition. Two, despite putting on years, had excellent hearing, and if an intruder came around, Rose was sure he would bark loudly, and possibly even attack a stranger.
Rose walked around, lost in thought. Somehow she had to come up with a plan to take a look at John Joe’s garden so she’d at least have a chance of ruling him out as the possible thief. But unless he was away seeing a patient,
it would be a risky proposition. His medicine hogan was beside his home, she recalled.
Hearing footsteps, she jumped and turned her head. Herman was walking around the side of the house. “I saw you out here as I pulled up. I hope you don’t mind that I came over. I don’t think you ever heard my truck. You seemed a million miles away.”
“You’re always welcome,” she said, calming down again, and
updated him on what had happened and what she wanted
to do next. “I’ve got to come up with a way to get into the
hataalii’s
garden and look for myself.”
Herman stared at her like she’d suddenly grown a second head. “Have you lost your mind? He could have you arrested if he catches you, and you’d be facing no end of trouble, especially now that someone’s been running around stealing plants. Do
you want your daughter to have her first heart attack?”
Rose chuckled. “She’ll have a very bad reaction if I get caught, all right, but I still have to do this.”
Herman took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “If you’re bound and determined to go ahead, you’ll need help. I could try and keep him distracted inside his hogan.”
“You mean hire him to give you his professional advice on something
while I take a look around? That could work!”
“It could also backfire,” he warned. “He probably won’t trust me, knowing you and I are such good friends. He’s sure to wonder why I didn’t go to your son.”
“I think he’ll be blinded by his own ego. He’ll probably think you’ve shown uncommonly good sense.”
Herman laughed. “I have to admit, from what I’ve heard about him, that sounds more in character.”
Together they came up with a simple plan. “We’ll drive up the road leading to his hogan slowly because you say it’s really bumpy,” Herman said. “Then I’ll drop you off where he can’t see you unless he happens to be watching out a back window. After that, I can drive to the front of his medicine hogan and try to keep him from going around back to where his garden is probably located. If he’s not
home at all when I arrive, I’ll come back and help you look around.”
“It won’t take me but a minute or two, if I can get close enough. I know where it is already, more or less, so I just want a quick look around. I need to know if some of the plants that have been harvested ended up in his garden. I’ll be able to tell
at a glance how many of his plants are new arrivals, or if his garden is established
with plants that have been growing there for a long time.”
“If we get arrested for trespassing, your daughter will make sure someone lynches me.”
Rose smiled. “Your nephews are cops. They’ll protect you.”
“Are you kidding? She’s a real scrapper. She could take both of them at once—at least two out of three times. And if that isn’t enough, she outranks them.”
“Then you’ll just have to charm
her.”
“I’m doomed.”
Feeling a little tense, her heart beating faster as if she were looking for a rattlesnake she knew was out there somewhere. Rose walked toward the medicine man’s home. She was trying to use juniper and piñon trees and any other cover she could find to screen herself from view. A familiar sound put her more at ease. Herman was coming back in his truck along the narrow track
that served as a road, according to plan. He pulled to a stop beside her and pushed open the passenger’s-side door.
“He’s not there. There’s no one around that I could see.” He paused as she got in and fastened her seat belt. “Are you sure you want to go back there and look around?”
“Yes, but let’s work quickly, because we have no idea when he’s going to return.”
“My point exactly. I wish you
would reconsider.”
“Not a chance, but if it helps, try to think of this as a golden opportunity,” she said. “Park behind that cluster of junipers. Then, if he comes back before we’re done, he won’t see your truck right away.”
“This is really risky,” he muttered, then parked where she’d suggested.
Her hands shaking again, Rose walked toward the back of
John Joe’s home. The fenced-in garden had
been easy to spot, even on her first visit with Lena. The rest of the yard was naturally landscaped except for a lane where the man obviously parked his vehicle.
As they reached the garden, protected from rabbits and rodents by a three-foot-high fence of chicken wire and metal fence posts, Rose looked around and listened. “It’s quiet. We’re okay.” She raised her skirt enough to step over the
fence.
The plants weren’t in rows. They were growing in nine or ten small rectangular beds defined by boards half buried, held in place by wooden stakes. She studied the various beds from the access paths made of strewn straw and alfalfa, which helped retain moisture and hold the loose soil in place, and served as a weed-reducing mulch. “This garden is well designed. He’s got several common varieties
here. There’s some ‘blue pollen,’ and a few ‘wondering about medicine.’ One of those plants looks like it could have been replanted recently, but it’s hard to say. He may have been digging out weeds, or just moved it to a better location.”
“All right. You’ve seen enough. Now let’s go.”
“Let me make sure I brush out our tracks.” Stepping back over the fence, she picked up a handful of dirt, scattering
it over their footprints as she retraced their steps. She was nearly done, when she suddenly froze. Her heart rate shot Up immediately.
“What? What’s wrong?” Herman asked quickly.
“He’s coming back.”
Herman listened and looked around. “I don’t hear or see a truck.”
“He’s coming back, and he’s close,” she repeated, hurrying toward Herman’s vehicle and praying that she wouldn’t panic and break
into a run.
They were nearly to the trees where the truck was hidden
when John Joe’s new truck came into view. He pulled up and stopped beside the garden.
“Hey!” he called out.
“Keep going!” Rose whispered harshly, more confident than before now that she knew they would make it. “Don’t hurry and don’t look back. Just pretend you didn’t hear him.” Anything else would have been like admitting
guilt.
Herman’s truck was less than twenty feet away, but by the time they reached it and jumped inside, Rose’s mouth was dry and her confidence nearly gone. Herman drove off away from the house, slowly at first, then accelerating once they were out of sight. It was several minutes before he spoke.
“Do you realize what a disaster that could have been?” he managed through clenched teeth. “He
probably recognized us.”
“Maybe, but we’re all right. Even if he knows it was us, he certainly can’t prove anything. Nothing was harmed or is missing, and we didn’t even leave any footprints near the garden.” She was finally able to relax a bit.
“Was it worth it?”
She nodded. “Unless he’s got another garden hidden elsewhere, I don’t think he’s our thief.”
“But you still don’t know anything
for sure.”
“True, but we’ve made headway. We’ve learned that he’s probably
not
the one who’s been removing the plants. That’s something, at least.”
They were silent for a long time as he drove back toward Shiprock. Finally, as they turned off the highway onto the gravel road that eventually led to her place, he glanced over at her. “My hearing is better than yours, and I never heard his pickup
until it came around the side of the house. How did you know he was on his way back?”
“I can sense things sometimes. It’s a gift. But others might prefer to say that, somehow, I heard the truck—that Wind,
who always acts as a messenger, carried the sound. You can choose your own explanation.”
Herman nodded. “Fair enough.”
Grateful to be spared any more attempts at explaining what couldn’t be
explained, she leaned back in her seat and enjoyed the remaining ride.
By the time Herman left, it was ten forty-five, and Rose knew she had to set out soon if she wanted to catch the
hataaliis
while they were still at Beautiful Mountain.
Rose purposely hadn’t told Herman about her plans. She had a feeling he’d had more than enough of her detective work for one day. She smiled, thinking of
how nervous he’d been. Yet the truth was she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had that much fun.
The trip took nearly an hour over mostly dirt or gravel roads, but she felt relaxed and filled with a determined sense of purpose by the time she reached the western side of Beautiful Mountain, which stood nearly a mile higher than the surrounding desert.
As she drove up a narrow canyon that
led to the spot where most Navajos were forced to abandon their vehicles and walk, Rose glanced out the passenger’s window. The road had curved from westbound back to a northerly direction a mile or two earlier, and she could see the path she’d already traveled, winding up from the gentle rise into the foothills. To her surprise, she saw a tan pickup back in the distance following her route. She
tried to dismiss the uneasiness she suddenly felt, reasoning that she’d only noticed the truck after she’d turned off the main highway and the driver had made no attempt to close the gap between them. But, despite all that, seeing it there still disturbed her.
Rose clung to logic. There was no need for her to feel threatened. She was going to be with her son and others she trusted
very soon and
she couldn’t panic every time she saw a tan truck on the reservation. They were as common as sand in the desert.
As she parked her truck and started the gentle climb to the spot where the
hataaliis
were meeting, her thoughts shifted to the Navajo healers. She couldn’t help but wonder how they’d view her plans.
Rose walked slowly because her leg was aching now after her hasty escape earlier in
the day. Ever since her car accident, she’s always had problems with it. Determined not to give in to the discomfort, or admit she could have really used her discarded cane right now, she tried to keep her pace steady.
As she passed the circle of pines and entered the clearing atop a small hillock where the men were meeting, Clifford saw her and immediately stood.
“Mother, what are you doing
here?” He came toward her quickly. “You shouldn’t be hiking this far from home by yourself. Actually, you shouldn’t be mountain climbing at all.”
Refusing his offer to take his arm for support, and sitting down without help on one of the rocks, she faced Clifford and the five other medicine men. “I came here today to share information, and present you all with a plan I’ve come up with.”
She
looked at the men, all dressed in faded western-cut jeans and wearing long-sleeved cotton or flannel shirts. John Joe was there too, something that made her uncomfortable, although she tried not to show it. She studied the healers silently before speaking again.
John Joe was the only one of the five wearing shiny cowboy boots instead of moccasins or sneakers. All had leather medicine pouches
at their belts and headbands in various shades of blue or white—the customary colors for a
hataalii
.
Rose had thought to change clothes before coming, but she now couldn’t help but wonder if John Joe knew it had been her at his garden earlier, and if he’d show any sign of recognition
or say anything. At the moment, all she could see on his face was a bored expression.
Rose glanced at Ben Tso,
the oldest, who’d been a Singer in these parts before Clifford was born. His lined face spoke of power kept in check and of a lifetime of experience. Arturo Taugleche was younger than Clifford by a few years. His hair was long, warrior-style, and his face was filled with the fierceness the gods gave only to the young. He lived on the Arizona side of the reservation, south of Window Rock somewhere.
Jimmie Nalcoce was a friend of her son’s, a young man of slight build, with a slender, hawkish-looking face and an unimposing style. Yet, despite outward appearances, he was a highly respected
hataalii
in southern Utah.
She explained her plan to have information pooled and resources shared, with the Plant Watchers’ cooperation, then added, “That will get us through this emergency situation, but
with your permission, I’d like to take this plan a step further. You all have collection sites you favor. If you would share those locations with me, I’ll personally visit each of those sites and see how many of the rare plants are still growing there, then add those to the master list.”

Other books

The Amphiblets by Oghenegweke, Helen
One Red Rose by Rose, Elizabeth
Night of the Loving Dead by DANIELS, CASEY
Heaven Is High by Kate Wilhelm
Training Tess by Sabrina York
The Lorax by Dr. Seuss
Jasper Jones by Craig Silvey